


What Inevitability

by playbychoices



Category: Choices: The Royal Masquerade (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Love Confessions, Revised Canon Scene (Because it DISAPPOINTED ME)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23064586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playbychoices/pseuds/playbychoices
Summary: Revised Hunter(>>Loreto)'s confession scene, even though I'm largely apathetic about him, because the original reminded me way too much of Mr. Darcy's first (re: bad) proposal. This is, I think, much more romantic.------------------------------“Are you trying to say you do not love me?”“You ridiculous man,” Odilia sounds like she’s crying. She won’t look up, but her hands hold his tighter once more. “You are sucha fool.”“I know.” Loreto laughs a little, playful yet sad. He lets her hands go and she doesn’t fight for them. He cups her face instead, forcing her to look up at him and confront him with the many tears falling from her face. “Yet you cry for me?”“Becauseyou are such a fool.”
Relationships: Hunter Fierro/Main Character, Loretto Fierro/Odilia Everheart
Kudos: 7





	What Inevitability

**Author's Note:**

> Most Obvious Inspirations for Fic: _Pride & Prejudice (2005),_ "Do You Love Me?" from _Fiddler On The Roof _. I highly reccomend either the 1971 film's version of the song or the Yiddish version, as sung by Steven Skybell & Jennifer Babiak especially, in the 2019 Broadway revival.__
> 
> MC is named Odilia Everheart. I never played her (you could say that's how much I disliked the confession), so I don't know which MC face she has.

* * *

“Ah, so this is Lady Renza’s manipulation.” Odilia Everhart looks anxiously between the Regent-King and around the cabin. It was dark. There was but one candle on the desk between them. Odilia had entered first, apparently, and she had not lit it. “We should probably depart then, my lord.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Such seclusion isn’t safe for either of us.”

“Odilia, please.” Loreto steps closer to her. “There is something I must tell you, I cannot bury it any longer.”

“I will not assume what you have to say,” Odilia allows him into her space but her gaze couldn’t focus, “But I urge you to please refrain. At least, refrain here. My lord, I worry—”

“Loreto.” The Regent-King corrects. He gently holds her hands as he said his own name, his grip loose and allowing her to easily break the contact if she chooses. She doesn’t. She looks up at him now, brow furrowed and lips pursed, and Odilia’s eyes do not wander this time. Loreto’s habitual playful tone curves like smoke when he whispers, causing peeking goosebumps and shivering spines, “How many times must I implore you to please call to me without the barrier of titles between us, Odilia?”

“It, uhm,” A flush rosies Odilia’s cheeks and she resettles her stance, “It will have to be at least once more, my lord.”

“I suppose as long as you call to me of all people, I should know better than to complain.” Loreto’s chuckle is quiet and hollow. He runs his thumbs over her fingers, he can feel the old callousces of quills’ ghosts. It anchors his resolve to feel the terrible ache of a lifetime of memories without her in them and the fear of more of such in the future. “Please. We may not get another moment alone now that you are engaged.”

“We’ll find moments.” Loreto’s chest pains, recognizing her tone. “I am never one to abandon allies nor friends.” It’s the tone she uses when his father watches, when Lord Cyrus listens, or even in the presence of a stranger whose eyes she does not trust. It’s the tone she uses to step back, to remind them of their distance. There was a time Loreto found her wise for it, but now he finds the act stupid as she represses herself into something smaller and smaller still. “But I think it best if we go both go to bed. My body has not been well since being at sea, and I worry the air and rocking of the boat is making you ill as well.” Odilia leans away, one hand lifting from his to grab at the door’s handle. “We will have other moments, my lord.”

“We have a moment here and now.” Loreto’s grip tightens for a moment, tugging her closer. Odilia squeezes his hands in return. His hold slackens. His voice shakes and his heart is pounding and it feels like he’ll lose her if he neglects the ache any more. She’ll dissolve into the seafoam or scatter into a new constellation, and Loreto’s spine is already so bent from carrying all these regrets. “ _Please_ , I can make this moment a pretty one if you’d only allow me the honor.”

Since giving her his hands, one of her thumbs has been rubbing the ring she gifted him not even a day ago. She presses the pad of her thumb into it, relenting her shoulders to fall in time with a sigh. “Alright,” She nods, “But it cannot be a long one.”

“It won’t be.”

“I know you, my lord. _It cannot be long._ ”

“I swear it.”

“Oh, you _swear_ it.” Odilia smiles through her tone of false exasperation. It warms Loreto like a hot drink, he cannot help but smile and step further into her space for more of such a comfort. “Now, I know this ‘moment’ shall be long.”

“What can be shorter than ‘I love you’?” Her smile drops and Loreto tries to not let that shake him but his voice cracks with the emotion, “I love you, Odilia.”

“I— My lord, I—”

“Please, now out of all times, _please_ , call me Loreto.” 

“Bu- But we made our choices,” Odilia whispers to him, leaning in and holding Loreto’s hands tight. “We both chose our Houses’ happiness— no, you, our country’s _security_ , a foreign dignitary’s pleasure— _above_ our own. We do not get such a leisure as pure as love anymore. We stand by our choices, we stay true to those responsibilities we chose the burden of.”

“Odilia, that is not an answer.” Loreto doesn’t ask if she will loosen her grip, he doesn’t want to be let go. He guides their joined hands to press into the clothes, the skin, the cage covering his heart. He closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head, repeating quietly to himself, “That is _not_ an answer.”

“That is the only answer!” She whispers to him, her eyes wide. “Loreto,” He opens his eyes, they’re shining with wet, unfallen tears. His name sounds so unfamiliar from her lips but in a beautiful, similar way as when one first hears a favorite song. She sees him look at her like that and her voice cracks but continues, “There is no hope for us.”

“But there is if you only love me. Odilia, do you love me?”

“With this instability of our homeland, we need to stand strong, we need to honor our Houses. And, my lord, I can barely stand here with my seasickness, and I worry your rashness may come from a fever. Your skin is hot and your face looks warm. No.“ Odilia shakes her head. A tear falls down her face, her voice is mildly unsteady, but otherwise she keeps her expression as dismissive. “No, we should stop this, my lord. It is such a late hour, and after that adventure on the Isle, we must be worn out. Let us both go lie down.” But she doesn’t move away. Odilia doesn’t try to turn from him or take her hands back. Her hands squeeze his fiercely for a moment before she sighs, looking down. “We need to lie down.”

“Are you trying to say you do not love me?”

“You ridiculous man,” Odilia sounds like she’s crying. She won’t look up, but her hands hold his tighter once more. “You are such _a fool._ ”

“I know.” Loreto laughs a little, playful yet sad. He lets her hands go and she doesn’t fight for them. He cups her face instead, forcing her to look up at him and confront him with the many tears falling from her face. “Yet you cry for me?”

“ _Because_ you are such a fool.” She shoves at one of his arms without any power behind it to actually move him. “Why must you say such things? You are risking _everything_ that you are, that you have worked for, that you aim to achieve. It would put your House in danger, my House in danger, my engagement, your position, Cordonia itself! In the face of such disastrous consequences, for either of us to admit such feelings, much less act upon them, it would be impractical and selfish of us.”

“Then you too possess ‘such feelings’?”

Odilia puts her hands on the wrists of his, still holding her face as she leans into his palms. She asks him, “How can you care not for the consequences of such an accusation?”

“Consequences be _damned_ , Odilia!” Loreto kisses her forehead. Even after it ends, he keeps his lips pressed to her skin. Just for the touch of her. His tears fall into her hair. “I ask you regardless of them. I do not care for them, one can not care for something that frightens them to their core. So, no, I could never care for them. I care for _you_ , my love.”

Loreto gently suggests for her head to tilt further up as his own ducks down, their foreheads press against each other as Loreto’s thumbs try to rub away the trails of tears on her face. 

“Odilia, when we went to town and you told that merchant that we were only traveling companions, when I told him that I would leave at sunset and you could not stowaway with me, when you said that ‘So there is no happy ending for our relationship, but why ruin such a beautiful day with such an ugly thought?’— My lady, the fog lifted. I could suddenly see how miserable we were making ourselves in our repression, the misery we were building our lives to be surrounded by. The foresight of that burned me. The promise of another ‘moment’ means little to me if I am not to marry someone who I can’t wait to see everyday in all of its moments.”

Odilia shakes her head, and she pulls his hands down from her face and steps back from their touch. She leans her weight towards the door. “You could learn to love your spouse. It would be naive to deny that many love more than one person within a lifetime. You will live beyond this.“ 

Loreto restrains himself from following her. He nods, looking down at empty hands and flexing them to ease their ache.“You are completely right. I could. I will not die if you reject me tonight. I do not need you as one needs to breathe.” Loreto raises his head towards Odilia, balling his hands into fists as he pleads with a quiet and shaking voice and an unsteady smile, “I need you as one needs music and art, I need you as an expression, as enjoyment. You make me feel seen and heard, Odilia, as though I matter beyond the titles and labels attached to my identity. So, yes, I could live without songs and paintings, plays and sculptures, sonnets and flowers. I could live without you and I could find another to fill some of the unfillable void you’d leave. But why would I ever _want_ to, Odilia?” Realizing he had been leaning towards her, Loreto takes a step back to take a breath in and out slowly. He looks at his hands as he forces them to relax, his shoulders slouched. His hands fall and Loreto looks up at Odilia, appearing as hopeless as Atlas’ weakest moments. He tries to laugh. It’s such a broken sound.

“I confess to you regardless of ‘usefulness’ and in spite of practicality. I confess to you because I envision a future where I get to hear your tired wit every morning; where I have the unabashed warmth of your hand in mine; where I am to be always included in your unbelievably clever ploys; where I have a guarantee of dancing with you, of dining beside you, of sneaking away with you at every event; and where I am allowed to see and adore your many complexities and hidden layers. I fantasize about the mundane with you.” Loreto brushes his hands through his hair. His face feels warm with embarrassment and anxiety and his coping mechanism is awkwardly laughing in disbelief. “I've— I have never thought that possible before: to so longingly desire normalcy in the heart of one’s vast imagination. I want to go to markets and buy your favorite fruit, to remind you of your scarf when it’s cold, to always recognize and read your handwriting, to know intimately how to care for you and for you to allow me the pleasure of caring for you.” Loreto gestures towards her with both hands and then lets them fall as he says, “There is _little_ you could do or could not do for me that would affect my regard for you, Odilia. You exist. You exist and, as simple as that, you possess me, all of me, my heart and spirit, should you do me the honor of claiming it.”

He pauses. It is dark in the barely lit cabin and Loreto cannot be sure of Odilia’s expression. He takes a slow step forward towards her and then another, offering her his palms and watching for any movement from her to suggest that he not move towards her. “Forget the Houses. Forget the throne. Forget the shackles of duty. Forget the stares and forget the whispers. Forfeit all of that, Odilia, and what remains then? What inevitability? Is it that love, or have I misunderstood?” He doesn’t move any closer after.

Odilia laughs, almost bitterly. “Why must you speak so plainly about it all? You make it feel almost simple.” But she steps towards him and puts her hands in his.

“I wouldn’t know, but I think love can be, if you let it.” He laughs with her, and it’s not an entirely happy sound as much as it is an exhausted one. But they don’t let each other’s hands go. 

Odilia’s laughter dissolves gradually as she speaks, and Loreto’s stops too when hers does. “People of our position do not have that luxury.” But they still don’t let each other’s hands go.

“Then I am glad for whatever we have.”

“Well,” Odilia’s shoulders rise is hesitation and fall as she breathes out slowly. She whispers to him, “What we,” She presses her lips together tightly and leans her weight against him. Her legs feel weak and her limbs jittery, and she doesn’t know if its the sea-sickness or the nerves of this pivotal moment she’s deciding on. And she keeps not letting his hands go. “What it is— it is love, I think. A newborn and laborious kind of love but, I suppose, I too am happy for it.”

Loreto pauses. “So you do love me?”

“Yes, my lord.” Odilia whispers, her voice scared and Loreto can feel her hands shake, “My Loreto, I suppose I do love you.”

“You love me.” He pets her knuckles with his thumbs. “You love me and I love you.”

She nods cautiously as she looks down. Odilia’s eyes immediately find the ring she has given him. She feels the sting of oncoming tears prick at her eyes again, and she tries to chastise herself away from being so weak as to weep again. 

“Aha! Odilia!” Loreto cheers in his laugh, bright and shining and full, and a couple more tears bleed out of him amongst the joy. He grabs at her waist with both hands, lifting her up to carry in his arms and spin. “Then that means we’re in love!" 

Odilia makes a startled sound that transforms into the embarrassed and loving kind of laughter. 

How much more immovable and strong Odilia seems being carried and blushing.

How much taller Loreto seems with that boyish and crooked grin.

How suddenly all the happiness shatters upon hearing a third pair of hands clap. "Well, well, well,” Lord Damon comes out from the shadows and folds his arms in front of his chest, “It isn’t often that I’m surprised.”

Loreto and Odilia stop laughing, stop moving. Loreto lets her down. Odilia freezes, but she doesn’t let go, and Loreto holds on tighter and closer.

“And here I was expecting dignity and sense from you, Odilia. That you would perhaps do the honorable thing and reject him.” Lord Damon turns his smile to his son. Loreto’s hands fist more tightly to hold Odilia close him and his jaw sets. Though his father smiles, there is the froth of boiling anger and discharged disbelief collected on Lord Damon’s lips. “Instead, I see disgrace. Worse, I see my son waxing as if he was a poet when he is, indeed, a fool. I should be thankful, I suppose. Your pleading was illuminating, my _son_.” Lord Damon spoke between set, grinding teeth that showed his sharp canines glinting in the candlelight, “Especially during my favorite lines, how you should both, uh, ‘Forget the Houses’, ‘Consequences be _damned’_." 

Loreto’s back and shoulders stiffened into straighter lines. His footing changed to better stand between Lord Damon and Lady Odilia. "Father,—" 

"Silence! You have spoken enough!” Lord Damon speaks with spit and barred teeth now, the smile dropped to a seething growl. “How blind and kind I have been to let this performance, this sordid relationship of yours, go on so long, Loreto.”

“It’s alright, daddy. You did not know.” Renza emerges from behind him, and so starkly similar is his daughter’s dark, hidden grin to her father’s. “Such an inevitable confession is not _your_ fault.”

**Author's Note:**

> IMAGES' SOURCE CREDIT: _onset_ by kim addonizio // _the song of achilles_ by madeline miller x claude monet’s paintings // _triton and nereid_ by auguste rodin, sculpture // _are you my soulmate_ by tova and kendra yee // _flickering candle_ by ankit ruia, shutterstock footage video, cropped // _psalm by adonis,_ translated by khaled mattawa // _solitaire_ by alice oseman // _thoughts by the sea_ by robert brault, a rbrault blogspot post collection
> 
> IMAGE CREDIT, all on tumblr: @tenderantigone // @morganalefaey // @anosamour // @tenderantigone // @izbirakin // @soracities // @solitairians // @healchai
> 
> ORIGINAL STORY'S POST, on tumblr: playbychoices.tumblr.com/post/189121586001/w-h-a-t-i-n-e-v-i-t-a-b-i-l-i-t-y-hunter
> 
> AO3 services as my back-up account for all my fics on tumblr. I post them there first, and then eventually mass back-up them here. If you want updates on my fics ASAP, send me a message on tumblr to be on my tag-list! I also post fan art there too
> 
> KUDOS ARE VERY KIND BUT REVIEWS MOTIVATE ME


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